


Mine

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16266950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set 2010/11; As far as he was concerned, certain persons liked her a wee bit too much.





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of their anniversary, I'm posting two stories this month. The sequel to this piece will follow at the usual day.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. During the election cycle, the media had reported she had a likeability problem. Looking at the photos from her recent official trip, he had to agree – she had a likeability problem alright. Just not of the kind of problem the media had been referring to. As far as he was concerned, certain persons liked her a wee bit too much. Admittedly. He couldn’t really fault them for falling for her charm – he had done the same – but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

It didn’t surprise him that men all around the world tried to charm her. That wasn’t a new occurrence. During their time in the White House, foreign dignitaries had already been drawn to her like moths to a flame. At times, his team had utilized that fact to accomplish a goal by asking her to soften a blow or make a partner more receptive to a suggestion or request.

Obama had done pretty much the same when he had chosen her as his secretary of state. And she performed beyond public expectations.

It wasn’t only the men of their own generation who responded to her charm, younger men succumbed just as easily, too. Although some might be star struck, it didn’t change the result. While he tended to tease her about her younger admirers, he couldn’t deny they irked him a bit more than the older ones did. He couldn’t even really explain it. Sure, she would be able to keep up with their energy, but she could also have them for breakfast – in the metaphorical way. (Not that there was anything wrong with the more literal meaning. He loved eating her for breakfast.) Maybe it was his own insecurities raising their head. Ever since his first heart surgery, he wasn’t as energetic, as active as he used to be, had shifted down a gear.

Intellectually, he knew all those men – foreign ministers, prime ministers, kings, shahs and sheiks – didn’t stand a chance, didn’t present any danger to his marriage. Nonetheless, it didn’t sit well with his inner caveman.

He could analyze his own behavior, his reactions, could observe himself. He was well aware of what was happening in his mind. Years of psychological therapy had taught him a thing or two about self-awareness. 

It equally amused and annoyed him that after 35 years of marriage he still felt the way he did.

There had been times when he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had left him and had run off with a charming, charismatic man that came with less emotional baggage than he did. Those times, however, were behind them. These days, they lived a weekend romance that was going strong.

He was well aware that he had no reason to be jealous. The whole world knew she belonged to him, and him alone. She wore his ring and his name – despite everything he had put her through. She also came home to him, looked forward to it, and didn’t tire of saying so.

She liked coming home to him as much as he enjoyed having her there to pamper, wine and dine her, to talk and relax together. Although they disliked spending that much time apart, it made the time they did get to spend together more precious, made them value it more. They did their best to ensure it was indeed quality time, not wasted hours.

Occasionally, he got the impression, though, that she flirted with those foreign dignitaries on purpose, not just to gain favors for the country and to improve relations between the countries via personal relations, but also to get him riled up.

While he knew she was his until the end of time, there was no denying the urge to (re)claim her upon their reunion. That didn’t mean huge hickeys, taking her against the door or carrying her off to his cave, but rather passionate kisses and special attention. She seemed to relish that treatment. As did he. He loved her – body, mind and soul – and enjoyed showing her time and again.

He felt somewhat incomplete, as if a part of him was missing whenever they were apart for a while. Calls were nice and good, but he needed his regular fix of physical contact, of talking in person, of seeing, of smelling her. Although maybe to a lesser degree, he knew, she shared that feeling.

Nonetheless, she enjoyed her job. Despite the time away from home, the long hours, the stress, the frustration, the travelling without getting to see much of the places, she enjoyed it, was proud of what she was accomplishing for the country, because she knew the work to be important, saw the results, the effects, the impact she was having around the world.

Who was he to deny her some fun along the way? Her husband – would be the chauvinistic answer. While it was certainly true, that didn’t imply anything to him beyond that he was the lucky guy she chose to bind herself to, to share her life with, to call home. That gave him no right to cut her wings, to cage her mind, to restrict her social life, to influence her friendships or to dictate anything else about her life. 

He was proud of her, of who she was and what she had achieved; and he would forever do his best to shield and protect, to defend and support her. She could fend for herself, but liked not always having to do so, to let him take care of her. And that was the ultimate sign of trust, of love for she disliked showing signs of weakness. He was the only one whom she would allow to see her defenseless, unguarded, vulnerable.

That fact always calmed the waves of jealousy that would occasionally arise upon the release of photos of yet another smitten diplomat in her company. They might get her attention for a short while, a smile, a laugh, maybe a wink, she might share a story, allow them a glimpse into her mind, but they would never get to truly see her, would never be blessed with knowing all of her. That honor belonged to him.

So they could look, they could flirt. He got to touch, to kiss, to love – something he couldn’t wait to prove as soon as she would walk through the door in a couple of days. Until then calls at night and in the morning would have to suffice. He loved her sleepy voice that none of her admirers got to hear. Thank God they didn’t know what they were missing.

The End.


End file.
